


How Supernatural Should End

by snugglechesters



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Laundromat, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-30
Updated: 2016-12-30
Packaged: 2018-09-13 09:01:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9116152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snugglechesters/pseuds/snugglechesters
Summary: My ideal end scene for Supernatural.





	

* * *

It’s 1:35 am on a Thursday, and Sam and Dean Winchester are sitting at a small table inside a Laundromat. The brightly lit building stands like a fluorescent beacon against the murky darkness beyond the glass, a safe port in the storm. The only sounds to be heard are the rhythmic rattle and hum of the machines, and the periodic rumble of distant thunder. Dean, in a tattered t-shirt and his boxers, plays solitaire with a well-worn deck of cards, eyes darting to the windows every few minutes. Sam leans back in his chair, clad in a tank top and sweatpants, a pen between his teeth. He takes it out, circles something.

“Find anything?” Dean murmurs.

“Maybe,” Sam replies quietly. “A few reports that could be our kind of thing, but not sure yet. I’ll keep looing.”

Dean “Mmm’s” and turns back to the window.

A few minutes later, Cas, dressed in ratty jeans and a flannel, runs in holding a small collection of paper bags. His clothes are soaked and his dark hair is plastered to his forehead. Sam looks up and kind of laughs, Dean chuckling a little too before grabs a towel and goes to help Cas, taking the bags from him while Cas attempts to dry off.

“We don’t have any clean clothes yet, but a load should be fresh out of the dryer in a few minutes and you’ll be toasty warm,” Dean says, smiling.

Cas makes a wry face, wrapping the towel tighter around himself, but he walks towards the table without complaint. Sam pulls up another chair and Dean starts to open the bags. Cas reaches passed him though, taking the bags and grinning slightly when Dean looks put out. “A salad for you, Sam. A premature heart attack—sorry, double bacon cheeseburger for Dean, and”—Cas takes out the last container—“chicken soup for me.”

They eat in companionable silence, Sam going back to his paper and Dean quietly trying to teach Cas card games. Cas gets up when the dryer dings and heads to the bathroom to change. He emerges in a pair of black sweatpants and one of Dean’s faded Zeppelin t-shirts. Dean tries to hide his small smile, but Sam catches it easily. Cas walks back and reaches into the last bag. “Oh, and I bought one more thing,” he says and pulls out a box with a freshly baked cherry pie.

“You didn’t forget the pie!” Dean exclaims, a huge grin breaking across his face.

“I would never,” Cas replies, smiling in return. He takes out some plastic cutlery he’d bought and cuts off a generous slice for Dean, and two more modest ones for Sam and himself.

“Thanks, Cas,” Sam says, Dean quickly adding, “You’re the best, Cas”.

Cas’ lips curl up fondly and his hand finds Dean’s on the table. Sam looks on with a teasing but genuine smile. Dean looks down at the table, always easily embarrassed by public affection, but his smile is pure and his eyes dance happily. Sam chuckles to himself and then taps the newspaper, leaning forward. “So get this…”


End file.
